Yes
by InTheDark34
Summary: Bones just wants to go home, but something happens... *SLASH* Kirk/McCoy  First time writing fanfiction for this fandom so please read, review, and tell me what you think please.


**Title:** Yes

**Author:** _InTheDark34_

**Characters and Pairings: **James Tiberius Kirk/Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, and Christine Chapel.

**Rating:** Teen

**Word Count: **2,782**  
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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Trek the movie. Just this story. It contains a physically hurt Jim. Also it's an AU, where Leonard works in a hospital and Jim isn't a Captain in this story.

**Warnings: *SLASH***

**Beta: **Eris Dea Disaccordo

**Summary:** Bones just wants to go home, but something happens...

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><p>Dr. Leonard McCoy can't find it in him to regret the sigh that escapes him, even if it did come out more than just a little huffy, because between a huffy sigh and a violent fit bordering on epileptic, the sigh is the safer—albeit not the more satisfying—way to go. Although, with only Christine Chapel in the break-room with him, he was almost certain he could get away with a full blown rant, provided none of his colleagues stepped into the room while he was busy swearing like a sailor. Then again, Christine was a good friend, and while he knew that she'd listen and maybe even applaud him (again) for whatever choice of expletives he manages to string together on the spot, Leonard McCoy was a southern gentleman—he'd never swear in front of a lady while he was on break.<p>

Now, swearing in front of women in the ER or the OR was a different ball game. In those rooms, everyone was an equal, so swearing in there was fair game.

The hospital was suspiciously peaceful for him today, and as the sun set and the evening continued into night, impatience wrapped around him and further tightened the grip it had on him. The clock was ticking _way_ too slowly for his taste, and all he could think about was just dropping things to be tomorrow's problem and going home to Jim.

Ah, Jim. In the manner that he could make a storm with just a few choice cuss words, he could also wax poetry about blonde-hair, blue-eyes and wickedly-sexy-and-incredibly-hot-smirks. James Tiberius Kirk was a modern-day Adonis and Leonard _swore _that he couldn't be luckier.

Today was their third anniversary of being a couple, and the wait for shift-change was all the more unbearable with the knowledge that his daughter Joanna spending the weekend with her mother, leaving the house free for Leonard and Jim to use they please, in any way and however loud.

But Dr. Leonard McCoy had responsibilities, which always meant taking care of his patients and often meant waiting with no small boredom as the clock ticked closer to the end of his shift.

"You're making that face again."

Just a little bit startled out of his internal musings, Leonard blinked and looked up at Christine, who was pouring herself a—fifth? sixth?—cup of coffee while trying to downplay the smirk tickling her lips.

A little befuddled at the comment, Leonard arched an eyebrow at the blonde nurse and asked, "What face?"

Christine chuckled as she set down the coffee pot and turned to sit at the table where Leonard was. "The 'I-want-to-leave-now-and-get-laid' face," she answered before she taking a small sip of her warm drink.

Leonard could only blink again, but it wasn't because he was speechless. He was just uncertain if he could speak without swearing in front of Christine.

"It was kind of obvious after the few occasions I've seen since we worked together," she continued on, enjoying the silence her good-natured teasing had brought on. After several years of friendship, the sly woman knew _exactly_ why Leonard wasn't saying anything, and it made him want to reconsider his southern principles, just for her. "Especially on your birthday last year..."

Okay, _now_ Leonard was speechless. And dammit, that was a blush heating up his face, wasn't it?

Christine was delighted, of course. "You should know that it is inappropriate to be with your significant other, do certain 'activities' and occupy one of the private rooms in the hospital, _Doctor_."

In the future, when Christine regales a room full of Leonard and Jim's friends of his reaction, Leonard will _fervently _deny that he started spluttering. "How did yo—? No. No, I don't want to know how you know that!" he tells her after he finds his voice.

Christine chuckles at his reaction. "But seriously, Len. It's nice to see you happy. Jim brought that into your life," she commented softly.

Leonard smiled at the mention of his lover's name. "Well, he is a great man." _Even if he is a pain in the ass_, he thought fondly.

"Yes. Yes, he is," Christine agreed, sipping again at her coffee.

A quiet minute passed before Leonard's wandering eyes caught sight of the clock again. "Damn," he sighed again as he got up from his seat. "I gotta get back to work." He stalks over to the trashcan and dumps his paper cup inside, then glances briefly at his friend. "I'll see you later. Chris."

"Ditto, Len."

As Leonard exited the break-room, a team of paramedics rushed past him with a gurney, a bloodied man lying on it. His sharp ears heard one of the EMTs relaying information to the doctor walking with them as they headed to the ER.

"Caucasian, male, mid-twenties. ID says his name's James T. Kirk—"

In hindsight, Leonard will remember feeling the world _stop_, air catching in his throat as his heart stuttered to a stop and his stomach figuratively dropped somewhere near his feet. Not a thought passed his mind while everything was frozen, and it wasn't a hundred emotions that rushed through him—just the one that mattered.

Terror.

Just as suddenly as everything stopped, it started back up again. When Leonard finally came to his senses, his feet were already propelling him towards the ER, not exactly dodging more than pushing aside everybody in his path, as he followed the team mindlessly, each pounding beat of his heart crying, _Not Jim. Not Jim._

_Not Jim._

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><p>Leonard lingered outside in the hall as he waited for news. He hadn't been allowed inside the ER because of his relationship with Jim, and even his common sense agreed that he wasn't in any shape to operate on Jim without making a mistake.<p>

And his hands were shaking—definitely not a good indication of his state of mind.

From what he could gather, Jim had been a victim of a hate crime. A stab wound in his stomach plus hematoma in various areas of his body told a horrible story. The news that Jim had been left for dead on the sidewalk made his knees weak. That Jim managed to keep his phone hidden was a miracle in itself. Leonard didn't want to think about what could've happened if he hadn't stayed conscious long enough to pull it out and called for an ambulance.

He'd lost a lot of blood waiting for help to arrive…

Leonard felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't form.

Not yet, anyway.

"Dammit, Jim," he breathed, leaning his head against the wall. "You better stay alive."

The door opening had Leonard jumping to his feet, and he was relieved to see Christine walking to him with a look of tired relief. Jim was wheeled out by a couple of orderlies, where one of them was carefully pushing along an IV rack of what seemed to be bags of morphine and blood.

Leonard quickly takes Christine by the arm and follows after them. "Is he okay? How'd the operation go? Did you find any other wounds? Is he gonna be all right? Dammit, woman, why aren't you answering me?"

Christine waited him out like the good friend she was. "He's stable," she assured him once he paused for a breath. At that, Leonard released her and put a foot forward to go around her and see Jim for himself when Christine took a hold of his arm. "Hang on, Len." He itched to pull away, but the tiny blonde had dug her nails into his skin, pointedly making him stay. "Just make sure you let him relax. Okay? Let him rest, he's been through a lot tonight."

Leonard nodded jerkily as she moved her sharp claws away from him, and he rushed after Jim, barking at the orderlies to "_Be_ _fucking_ _careful with that!_" and "_Jesus, where did you learn to push a cart? Wal-Mart?_"

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the room, and even at this distance, he could see the bruises left by the monster that did this to Jim. His Adonis was shirtless, and on any other occasion, his state of undress would have been a pleasantly welcome sight, but the bandages surrounding his midriff reminded Leonard of the cruelty Jim had gone through hours earlier.

If the ambulance were a few minutes off in any way, he could've lost Jim forever.

Leonard didn't know what he would do without the other man by his side—he'd already went through heartbreak before, he doesn't want to go through it again.

"Hey..." Blue eyes were suddenly staring at him, and the tears that he'd been trying so hard to conjure earlier came now with a vengeance. Jim smiled tiredly at him. "H-howzitgoin'?" he slurred in a whisper. Jim slurring was often a familiar sound, but the whisper…

Jim never whispered. Jim was loud and brash and the center of attention.

Jim should be loud. He shouldn't have to whisper.

Leonard reached forward to brush back a few sweat-dampened strands of Jim's longish bangs. When did he get to the bed? "Exhausted and shitty," he replied, but even he could hear the relief in his voice. "You?"

"Same." They both chuckled quietly, but a moment later, Jim groaned softly in pain.

Leonard called himself every synonym of the word 'stupid.' "Do you want something stronger for the pain?" he asked worriedly, willing to do anything to make Jim extra comfortable in his current condition.

"S'okay," Jim replied, trying to smirk at the older man so that he wouldn't worry too much. The smirk was more goofy than sexy, but Leonard feels his heart jump at the sight of it anyway. "Jus' feels…weird."

Well, at least Jim was being honest, though Leonard was pretty sure it was more because of the morphine drip than anything else. Jim had a shockingly low sense of self-esteem, and he wasn't naturally inclined to seek for comfort and help.

Leonard's smart enough to know that Jim calling for an ambulance was more for Leonard's sake than Jim's own self-preservation instincts, but he'll take his victories where he can get them. Speaking of which…

"Jim, can you tell me what happened exactly?" Leonard asked as he took the uncomfortable plastic chair by the bed and sat in it, taking Jim's hand in his and relishing the fact that it's felt warm despite the blood loss. He enjoys the feel of Jim's pulse under his fingertips too.

Jim's smirk slowly went to a frown as he looked down and felt the bandages wrapped around his body with his free hand. "S'our anniv'rs'ry," he murmured sadly.

"I know," Leonard replied, swallowing past the lump of something that was lodged in his throat and blinking back the fresh wave of tears that formed in front of his eyes. "Don't worry about it. We can celebrate later, okay?"

"Wasn' my point, 'ones," he sighed. "Wen' out ta buy ya a gift. T' surprise ya."

Leonard wants to say, "Dammit, Jim!" and scold him for doing something so dangerous. But when had going out to buy someone a gift become dangerous? And really, how could he get angry at Jim for wanting to do something for their anniversary?

No. It wasn't Jim he was angry at—it was the bastard who thought attacking someone for their sexuality was all fun and games.

When he got his hands on that son of a bitch…

"But when I finally bought it an' lef' th' store, got followed. Attacked. 'e left me there..."

Leonard gripped Jim's hand tighter, and he places a soft kiss just below the bloodied knuckles. (He's thrilled to know that Jim fought back.) "You're safe now, babe."

Jim sighed. "I know."

A few seconds ticked by, with Leonard watching as Jim's eyes slowly drooped—the morphine taking effect—when he suddenly remembers something Jim said. "You bought a gift?" he asked.

Jim blinked up at him and smiled goofily again, though there was a small blushed that tinted his pale face.

Leonard smiled back, feeling pleased. They had always treated each other during dates, of course, as well as when they had a few drinks at a bar. The thoughtfulness was there, too, when they made love for long hours of the day or night. But Leonard was normally the one who actually bought gifts for Jim, thoughtful little trinkets that he knew Jim would love or could use. For James T. Kirk to actually take his time and purchase a gift for Leonard McCoy, the grouchiest man he ever came to love…

What gives?

"Uh…well," even on morphine, Jim managed to stay a little coherent, having enough sense to chuckle nervously and he scratch the back of his head, "D'ya really wanna know?"

Leonard peered down at Jim, half-suspicious that it was some sort of prank, half-worried that it was some sort of prank, and completely intrigued at the new aspect of Jim Kirk he was seeing. "Yeah," he nods. "I wanna know." Because he's also really curious as to what Jim could have bought for him.

Jim points to the wall, and Leonard is briefly confused when he follows the direction twice and lands on the flower painting that he's pretty sure has been in the room for years. "Bag. Pants. Pocket."

Ah. Not the painting then. Leonard got up and made his way to the table below the painting, picking up the clear plastic bag where Jim's belongings had been collected and placed for safe-keeping.

Leonard couldn't deny being insanely curious as to what his gift could possibly be. He studiously ignored the blood on Jim's new, now ruined, favorite pair of jeans, as he put his hand through the pocket and pulled out velvety thing his hand had found. Pulling it out of the pocket, Leonard's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he stared at the item sitting in the palm of his hand.

_Holy shit._

"'f ya don' like it, I'll under—"

"Jim."

"Um, yeah, 'ones?" Even on morphine, Jim is coherently paranoid. Leonard files this quirk away for later dissection.

He turned around to stare at the blue eyes of his lover. "The answer…is yes."

It took a while for Jim to understand what Leonard was implying—morphine, you know?—but he still figured it out in a few seconds. Pale-faced and tired, Jim's smile was still blindingly beautiful, more so after their recent scare. Leonard swears a solemn oath that he'll never take that smile for granted.

Will never take Jim for granted.

Jim, who held his future and his heart forever.

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_ So what do you think of my first fanfic in the Star Trek fandom ladies & gentleman? Hopefully it's good. And please review and tell me what you think! :)


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